


Faith

by rudbeckia



Series: Henrupe ficlets [3]
Category: Silence (2016), The Revenant (2016)
Genre: Adam Driver/Domhnall Gleason Character Combinations, Bathing/Washing, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Feeling unwell, Andrew Henry returns early from checking the snares and traps that will put meat in their meals. Francisco Garupe soon diagnoses a cold, and insists on a warm bath and a folk remedy.For Kylux Adjacent month days 6 (sick/comfort) and 11 (bathing)
Relationships: Francisco Garupe/Andrew Henry
Series: Henrupe ficlets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689181
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16
Collections: Into the Adjacentverse: Kylux Adjacents Month 2020





	Faith

Andrew pulled out a chair with a soft scrape of wooden feet against against the wooden floor. He sat and blew across the top of the coffee he’d just poured from the pot, kept warm by the fire.

Francisco frowned over his books at Andrew. Not for the interruption, but for the fact that Andrew was here in the cabin at all when he’d set off to check the traps and the snares that would provide meat for the stew that formed their usual dinner if they were lucky.

“Love?” he said, with an upturn of his voice and an upturn of his lips. “Is there something keeping you at home this morning?”

“Not what you might hope, Francis,” Andrew replied. And Francisco heard the gravel in his throat, saw the redness around his eyes and noted the slump of Andrew’s shoulders as he held his coat around himself.

“Ah,” Francisco said, slapping his book shut. “You are suffering from the misery of a cold. You must stay home, stay warm, and prevent your minor ailment developing into pneumonia.”  
“Minor ailment?” Andrew said, before his voice cracked into a wheezing cough. “Are you sure I’m not dying?”  
Francisco laughed and shook his head. “I think I can make you feel a little better.”

With that, Francisco set aside his book, patted Andrew on the shoulder and dragged the wooden bathtub over to the fire. He added more firewood to the flames and set water to boil. It was a long, laborious task, but one that Francisco enjoyed because of the soft smiles on Andrew’s pink face when he came back into the cabin first with more water and then with more firewood.

Fire stoked up and water heating, more firewood stacked and waiting, more water ready to be heated, Francisco set about searching his collection of jars that Andrew jokingly referred to as his apothecary’s cabinet. Andrew, roused by the clinking and scraping sounds from the creation of Francisco’s concoction, cleared his throat and hoarsely asked what he was making.

“Dried lemon rind boiled and steeped with a little preserved ginger. When it is ready, I will strain the liquid into a glass half filled with rye. You will drink it warm with a spoonful of honey to soothe the burn. There is oil of eucalyptus to put in the bathwater and ease your breathing, and a little green cypress for the fire. It will crackle and smoke, but the scent will help.”

“It sounds heavenly,” Andrew said, watching Francisco potter around the cabin’s single, spacious room. “I fee like I’m at Death’s door, and you make me grateful for it.”  
Francisco smiled. “Earthly life is not eternal, but I am not sure whether this place we share is Earth or Heaven. If it were Heaven, we should be in the presence of God and all His angels, but we seem to have blessed solitude. Perhaps this cabin exists somewhere between the realms.”  
“Well, it can’t be heaven,” Andrew said, closing his eyes. “As an unbeliever, I would not be here if it was.”  
“You would be in my Heaven,” Francisco replied. “Did you not say that you prayed sincerely with love and hope in your heart? You asked God to bring you back to me? Here?” Andrew rubbed his face with his hands but did not speak. Francisco stroked Andrew’s hair on his way past to swap cold water for hot. “I know that you did. You have no more forsaken God than He has forgotten you.”  
“I prayed desperately, with despair in my heart.”  
Francisco laughed. “And He listened, and here you are, with me.”

Eventually, the wooden tub—really just some repurposed barrels broken down and rebuilt by Andrew at Francisco’s insistence because the stream was lovely in summer, but winter without bathing was intolerable—was filled and fragrantly steaming. Andrew’s throat, eased by Francisco’s potion, hurt a little less and his head began to clear because of the sharp-sweet eucalyptus and astringent cypress. He lazed in the hot water, occasionally topped up by Francisco, and accepted another ginger and lemon infused whiskey.

“To be looked after like this almost makes it worth being sick,” Andrew said. “I feel better. I’ve stopped shivering and I can breathe.”  
Francisco smiled and stroked Andrew’s wet hair back from his face. “Good,” he replied. “Are you ready to get out? I put the clean sheets on the bed and made tea. You could sleep and I will check the traps and make soup.”  
“Not yet,” Andrew said with a quirk of his eyebrows. “Shame to waste all this water.” He looked up at Francisco. “Still hot. They do say cleanliness is next to godliness.”  
“Oh they do, do they?” Francisco smiled back and removed his clothing one item at a time, in full view of Andrew. “I had better bathe too, then.”

Andrew moved his legs over and Francisco stepped into the tub, sitting down slowly in case the water slopped. The warmth eased aches he didn’t know he had, from hard work helping Andrew keep their cabin winter-proof and stacking the woodpile as high as himself. They’d need it on the days when snow might keep them inside and on the days when hunger for something other than beans might drive them out to find hares or perhaps an unlucky deer.

“I think we are here to teach each other,” Francisco said after a minute luxuriating in the remains of the heat. “I teach you to have stronger faith and to temper your ambition. You teach me tolerance.”  
“So what will happen when we have learned all we can from one another?” Andrew asked despite the fog in his mind.  
“I don’t know,” Francisco replied. “Perhaps all this will vanish and the true kingdom of God will be revealed to us.”  
“In that case,” Andrew said with just the slightest hint of a cough, “I have no reason to seek stronger faith, and my ambition is to remain here with you.”  
“And I,” Francisco added, pulling Andrew around to rest between his thighs and kissing the top of his head, “would be intolerant of anyone wanting to make me share your affection.”  
“So we’re stuck here,” Andrew said, letting his head sag back against Francisco’s shoulder and his eyes close. “Forever.”


End file.
